


The Butterfly Effect

by tylerg



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Caster Keith (Voltron), Coran is a good uncle, Cuban Lance (Voltron), Dark Magic, Elemental Magic, Fluff, Gay Keith (Voltron), Inspired by Life Is Strange, Interactive Fic, Keith (Voltron) is a Mess, Light Magic, M/M, Magic, Multi, Pining Lance (Voltron), Reader-Interactive, Witch Keith (Voltron), ill tag as i go - Freeform, inspired by beautiful creatures, klance, lance and allura are siblings basically, long fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-10-12 13:40:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17468651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tylerg/pseuds/tylerg
Summary: There are cries, shouts, and screams filling Lance’s ears as he catches sight of Keith rushing toward the door. “Keith!” Lance shouts again. Keith whips around, dark strands of hair curling against flushed cheeks, a dark bruise starting to form on his jaw and cheekbone. Both teens lock eyes, blue meeting violet out of all colors. His eyes are tiredly droopy, dark rings adorning them. His eyes are sad and he looks scared, afraid, goddamn terrified.⇠ ✧ ⇢It’s senior year and Lance wants nothing more than to leave his hometown of Mystia, Oregon. When Keith Shirogane arrives to Mystia, Lance’s priorties change.





	The Butterfly Effect

**Author's Note:**

> ive been working on this for quite a while and im so happy to be finally sharing it with you all!!
> 
> heavily inspired by both beautiful creatures and life is strange, i think this story is going to be interesting and each chapter will be long. i will update every month in order to fufill this promise.
> 
> also, this is an interactive fic!! at the end notes of each chapter, you will be given two choices to decide between. the choice with the most “votes,” or comments, will be the one i will choose to continue the story, so choose wisely!!
> 
> hope you enjoy! x

  There is a fine line between stupid and stuck, Lance thinks, and he hasn’t got a clue on which side applies to him.

  Maybe he’s stuck. Maybe he’s too attached to his hometown of Mystia, located on the coast of Oregon. His parents, both mother and father, were raised and buried here. Lance thinks maybe he will be too.

  Buried here, that is. 

  He has roots here, he knows just about everyone in town, there really was no point in leaving. So why would he?

  Maybe he’s stupid. Too stupid to leave, that is, because anybody in their right mind would get _the hell_ out of Mystia when given the chance.  

  Mystia was a smallish town in which everyone knew everyone and their great-great-grandmother. The same kids you went to highschool with were the same kids you’ve known since kindergarten.

  Everyone but Lance sees this as a good thing. Hell, even his _best friends_ are content with this way of life.

  But Lance isn’t exactly fond of his whole neighborhood constantly breathing down on his neck. Being rebellious is a lot harder when your teacher’s friend’s brother’s wife ends up ratting you out to your legal guardian for smoking weed behind the school dumpster.

  So, maybe Lance is just a special case. He doesn’t think he’s stuck, he wants to leave Mystia as soon as he graduates, and go to college somewhere far far away.  

  But he just might be, maybe might be, just a little bit stupid. Because no matter how many times he says he’s going to leave as soon as a diploma gets placed into his hands, he knows, somewhere deep down, that he doesn’t have the guts.

  He couldn’t just _leave_. He couldn’t just leave his hometown, his friends, his _parents_.

  So in the end, maybe Lance isn’t stuck. Maybe Lance isn’t really stupid.

  Maybe Lance is just a coward, simple as that.

 ⇠ ✧ ⇢

  Every night it’s that same damn dream. Well, maybe it might be a nightmare. Lance isn’t sure.

   All he knows is that he can smell fire, maybe even hear it too, even though he was in the driver’s seat of his friend’s car, going twenty three miles per hour, in the pouring rain.

  He thinks he can hear the crackle of the firewood, he thinks he can feel the _warmth_ of the flames on his face.

  Then, he’s drowning. Drowning in those eyes that shine brightly in the yellow headlights of his best friend’s pick up truck. Drowning in the pouring rain as the car screeches and skids to a halt, and he crawls out, yelling, yelling, and yelling. 

  Lance isn’t sure why he’s yelling. He never stays asleep long enough to find out why.

  It’s been the same dream for three months now. Every morning he’d end up waking with a start, an unknown word dancing on the tip of his tongue. Maybe it was the word he was yelling in the dream/nightmare, maybe it was something dumb like…I don’t know… _starfruit_.

  Either way, it had become part of Lance’s daily routine. He’d wake up, vocal chords ready to screech, dripping in cold sweat. Or maybe it was the rain.

  Or maybe he just left the window over his bed open last night.

  Lance sighs, reaching over to close it shut. He shakes his head a bit, like a dog would, trying to dry his hair. Water flies down onto his damp comforter and small drops roll down the nape of his neck.

  He huffs, harshly rubbing at his eyes with the heels of his palms, seeing fireworks. Every morning for the last three months, that dream wore him out, making him more and more restless each time it squirmed its way into his unconscious mind state.

  He felt as if he actually drove at twenty three miles per hour on slippery asphalt, like he actually jumped out of his friend’s truck, alarmed, and began to scream at the top of his lungs over the unforecasted downpour of the evening.

  “Alvarez, my boy! Breakfast! Now!” He hears Coran, his guardian, yell from downstairs. Lance sighs, shuffling out of bed, knowing when Coran said _now_ he really did mean _now_.

  “I literally _just_ woke up!” Lance yells back groggily, words a tad slurred. He tiredly slips on a pair of ripped jeans and a random button up, which happened to be floral.

  “And whose fault is that?! You better not be late for the first day, or you’ll be _damned_ , Alvarez!” Coran retorts. That’s what gets Lance to pick up the pace and almost trip when he stumbles down the stairs in a hurry.

  “I’m here, I’m here.” Lance grumbles, sitting in his seat. It squeaks and creaks under his weight, but he doesn’t mind.

  Coran hums a tune Lance doesn’t recognize as he scrapes some over easy eggs on Lance’s pre set plate, twisting back on his heel. He comes back with toast, then brown beans, then bacon, then ham, then sausage links.

  Lance smiles gratefully and begins to poke at his eggs with a silver fork, the bright yellow yolk seeping out onto the plate.

  “Morning.” Allura, Coran’s niece says, threading her fingers through Lance’s hair quickly before he could protest.  

  “Good morning. You’re going to be late. Are you making waffles?” Coran asks, raising an eyebrow expectantly. Allura huffs and nods, pouting slightly and walking over to the counter near the stove.

  Lance smiles to himself, devouring his breakfast. Coran always fed him heartily, as if he was trying to get Lance to grow another foot, even though the senior was veering 6’2.

  “I have physics first today, not too important.” Allura shrugs, bending down at her knee. She searches through a cupboard, plastic tupperware rattling as she pushes through them, looking for a pitcher. She comes back up, purple plastic pitcher in hand and Coran sashays past her, flicking her ear. She yelps.

  “All subjects are important, _school_ is important. You will not be late on the first day, Lura.” Coran states as Lance snickers. Coran sends him a look. “You neither Alvarez. If either one if you is late, or _god_ so help me, you will be grounded for a month. Understood?”

  Lance groans an “Understood” and Allura just grumbles a few words under her breath. She abandons the pitcher and shuffles out of the room.

  As Lance finishes up his breakfast, Allura comes rushing back. “They’re here.” She says, sending Lance a look. Lance almost trips as he hastily stands from his chair, running back upstairs.

   He grabs at his worn backpack and unplugs his phone from its charger. He jogs back down stairs in time to meet an Allura with a panicked look on her face. Coran is drinking black coffee at the dining table, ignoring both his kids.

  “C’mon!” She yells, running out the door. Lance sees her jump into Hunk’s truck, slamming the door. Lance looks at Coran and the old man shrugs.

  “Don’t be late on the first day now, Alvarez. You’re a senior, set a good example.”

  Lance nods and runs out after Allura, slamming the door behind him. “Now don’t go slamming my doors, child!” He hears Coran shout.

  “Hurry up, Lance!” Allura yells out the window. Lance stops and sends her a glare. He takes a step back to start and then sprints toward the truck.

  Allura yelps as Lance jumps up and through the rolled down window, trying to bring his legs into the truck. Hunk immediately begins to drive, not wanting to be late, though most likely, they will be.

  Allura and Lance are a mess of limbs for a second or two, before Lance is finally able to sit up like a normal human being. “I hate it when you do that,” Allura mumbles, turning to face the window. Lance rolls his eyes.

   “How was that?” Lance asks, lurching forward toward the passenger's seat. Katie is sat there, legs crossed underneath her.

   “Like, a seven.” She shrugs. She turns to Hunk, who was trying not to go above the speed limit. “What do you think?”

  Hunk’s eyes flick up toward the rear view mirror. Lance pulls a face. “An eight…point two.” He laughs.  

   Lance sticks out his tongue and leans back into his seat.

   He’s known Hunk for almost his whole life, same with Katie. They all became friends back in first grade, when Hunk fell off the monkey bars during recess and Lance and Katie were the only ones to comfort him. They’ve been best friends since then, you never only see one of them, it’s either two or all three. It’s usually Hunk and Katie. With a side of Lance.

  “Do you think it’s gonna rain today?” Allura asks, frowning up at the dark cloudy sky. Katie turns in her seat to look back at her.

  “Hurricane season, remember? It’s gonna be raining for at least another month or two,” She informs, scrunching her nose. Allura furrows her eyebrows.

  “Mystia doesn’t get hurricanes,” She says. Katie blows a raspberry, messing with the ends of her hair. She had just recently gotten it cut short. 

  “That’s not what I meant. Like thunderstorms and tornadoes and stuff like that.” She explains. Allura nods, humming in understandment. 

  “Oh, yeah. That makes sense.” She says, turning to face the window once more.

  Now Allura, Lance has known all his life, all seventeen years. He had grown up with her. He’s known Coran all his life too, and he’s sure his mother had known him all thirty seven years of hers. 

  Coran was a close family friend, who practically raised his mother, and literally raised him. Allura was his niece. 

  Allura’s mother had fell ill and passed away when she was three, her father following not too long after that. Coran was Allura’s mother’s older brother, who had promised to take custody of his sister’s child if anything were to happen to them. He kept his promise. 

  Coran was also a good friend of Maria’s, Lance’s grandmother. He had helped raise Rosa, her daughter, when she was too frail to do it herself. Rosa had been a late baby, and by the time she was five, her mother was veering sixty.

  When Maria passed away, Coran had taken Rosa in, raising her here, in Mystia. When Rosa and her husband Miguel passed away, he took Lance in. Lance was three when the accident happened.

  Coran was a kind old man, who raised three kids that weren’t even his. Even two of them at the same time, Allura and Lance, who were practically siblings at this point because of it. And yet, every year he _insists_ that he’s turning fifty, even though no one really believed it.

  “I wanna go home,” Lance whines as Hunk pulls up into the student parking lot. Katie scoffs and turns back in her seat, squinting her eyes.

  “Woman up, dude. We literally _just_ got here. It’s the first day.” She says, amusement lacing her tone. Lance shrugs.

  “So? That doesn’t matter.” He states, crossing his arms.

  It really _didn’t_ matter. Northlove High was, for a lack of a better word, boring. Every year, it was the same routine.

   Wake up. Eat. Go to school. Try not to die. Eat. Try not to die some more. Go home. Or if you’re feeling scandalous, head to the quarry to smoke weed and hook up with a cheerleader.

   The people in Northlove High weren’t much better either. The school was dominated by sport-enthusiasts, almost everyone played or did _something_. So, in retrospect, there were three kinds of people in Northlove High. The _jocks_ , the _cheerleaders_ and the _fans_.

  The _jocks_ were either students that played sports, were friends with students who played sports, or associated with people that played sports.

  The _cheerleaders_ were just that, _cheerleaders_. And any students that were friends with them. The _fans_ were everyone else, cheering on the jocks, like a fan would. But a majority of them weren't even into sports either way. Lance thinks they should start calling them the _others_ instead.  

  “Did you guys hear about the new kid?” Hunk asks, as they all crawl out of his truck. Lance laughs, bumping his shoulder with his own.

  “Yeah, there’s a whole classful of them. Freshman.” He smirks. Hunk bumps him back, sending Lance a few feet to the left.

   “ _Kid_. Singular. In _our_ grade.” Hunk emphasizes. 

   Also, Northlove High was a rather small school, only having around eight hundred to nine hundred students. So rumors like these travel faster than the speed of light. And school hasn’t officially started yet.

   “Bullshit. No one comes here,” Lance dismisses, waving his hand for effect. People left Mystia in clumps, though no one ever _came_ to Mystia. Not willingly. 

  Katie comes up behind Lance and smacks his hand.

   “I think it’s true. Apparently he’s Old Man Kolivan’s nephew.” She informs. Lance raises an eyebrow.

    Kolivan Kogane, aka Old Man Kolivan, was the town shut in. He lived in the oldest house in town, Kogane Manor, which stood amidst the tall trees of Dove Woods, near the lighthouse. Lance is sure no one has seen Kolivan ever since _Lance_ himself was born, maybe even long before that. No one has any idea what he looks like.

  “Sounds fake, but okay.” Lance hums in response. Katie hits his arm, Lance emitting a small yelp.

  “Seriously! I think it’s legit. Hunk and I saw a nice car down the street earlier. Like, a _really_ nice car. _No way_ it belongs to anyone but a Kogane.” She insists.

  Lance shrugged. “Maybe it _is_ true, who knows? We’ll find out sooner or later. I didn’t even know Kolivan had a _family_ , much less a _nephew.”_ He admits.

   The school bell goes off, ringing loudly throughout the whole campus. The group freezes. They turn to stare at each other for a few seconds before sprinting toward the double doors.

 “We better not be late or Coran’s gonna fucking kill us!” Lance shouts.

⇠ ✧ ⇢

  Lance crumples the detention slip in his hand, frowning as he walks down the empty hall. They all had been late, and they all had been caught.

   “Coran’s gonna have a conniption.” He mumbles to himself. He passes by a bulletin board which stretched across the entirety of a wall. He spares it a short glance, sighing as he turns away from it. 

   He doesn’t know what he expected.

  Ever since Northlove High let out for summer break, there had been a number of children and teenagers gone missing. There had even been a few bodies found, covered in week old blood, lying lifeless, all near Crow’s Creek. No one goes there anymore.

  There was an excessive amounts of _Missing_ posters littered all around town, all with headshots of kids who never made it home from school.

  And instead of the number reducing, it only grew, and grew, and grew, like a tumor. Luckily, no one Lance knew had gone missing, but that didn’t mean he didn’t feel apprehensive about the whole thing.

    _Those poor kids…_

  He keeps his eyes glued to the floor and continues to walk down the empty hallway, heading towards his first class of the day.

  The door is closed (and locked, Lance presumes) when he arrives. He taps on the door with his knuckle, letting his hand fall back to his side.

  The classroom door creaks open and Lance is met with a smooth face and warm caramel eyes. Naomi quickly scoots away from the door and slips back into her seat. Lance shuffles into the classroom, feeling everyone’s gaze on him.

   “Late on the first day, Alvarez? Coran oughta hear about this.” The teacher, Mrs. Janson says. She was a good woman, maybe a bit strict and way too punctual, but a good woman and a good teacher. She had been Lance’s pre calculus teacher last year.

  “I woke up late, madam.” Lance quips, throwing her a charming smile. Mrs. Janson only shot him a look, unaffected by his so called charm. She knew him too well, she’s dealt with him for year for god sake.

  “Take a seat,” Is the only thing she says, ending the conversation with a dismissive wave. Lance nods and walks over to one of the empty desks near the middle of the room.

   Mrs. Janson clears her throat and clasps her hands in front of her. “As I was saying before I was interrupted,” A pointed look toward Lance. “Today we’re gonna jump right in and–”

  Lance tunes her out, only seemingly paying attention by keeping his eyes on her face. Lance thinks maybe that Mrs. Janson was beautiful in the past, before the burning of her home.

  A few years ago a fire had broken out in her small house, sending everything up in flames. She had lost her husband and had burned a little less than half her face. Lance feels bad for her sometimes, she’d get made fun of and ridiculed for the scars she wore. She didn’t deserve that kind of treatment.

  “Alvarez, will you pass out these papers for me?” Mrs. Janson asks. Lance snaps out of his daydream and slips out of his seat, smiling.

  “Of course.” He replies in a delighted tone. Mrs. Janson smiles and hands him a stack of papers.

   “Thank you.” She says, walking back toward her desk. Lance begins to hand out the worksheets, padding across the room randomly. The least he could do was be kind to such a good woman.

⇠ ✧ ⇢

  “Alvarez! Missed you at the Summer’s End!” Jared, a classmate of Lance’s, practically shouts. Lance smiles tightly and plops himself down at the lunch table. 

  Summer’s End was an annual party Jared threw two days before the start of a new school year, this latest one was their last, now that they were seniors. This tradition had started back in freshman year. 

  “I was grounded,” Lance responds nonchalantly. And he was, for placing a sprinkler inside of Allura’s room the week before. He wishes he could say Katie had dared him, but he really just did it for fun. Plus, that’s what she gets for ruining his only copy of _The Book Thief._  

“Shit, man. But it was the biggest one yet! Coran’s gotta get a heart.” Jared says. Lance shrugs his shoulders as he picks at the food on his tray. It was a meatloaf of some kind.  

   “Whatever, didn’t feel like going anyway.” Lance adds. Jared scoffs, his girlfriend (who was practically attached to his arm at this point) giggles.

  “Yeah, right. Captain of the basketball team passes up Summer’s End ‘cuz he didn’t feel like it? Unheard of.” The girlfriend, Bianca, quips.

   “Hey, hey, hey, you mean _co_ -captain. You forget that I’m the other.” Jared interjects. Bianca rolls her eyes but cranes her neck upward, placing a kiss on the corner of Jared’s mouth. Jared smiles down at her lovingly, as if he didn’t repeatedly cheat on her every other week.

  “Of course.” Bianca murmurs, sounding as love sick as they appeared. As if she didn’t repeatedly cheat on _him_ , every other _night_.

  (Lance is pretty sure they’re both aware that the other is cheating, but they just chose not to say anything)

  Lance looks away from the two supposive lovebirds, making an exaggerated gagging noise, already feeling sick to his stomach. They’re _disgusting_.

  “Oh, you’re just jealous. This is what you get for dropping Naomi, which I _still_ don’t understand by the way. Enjoy the empty feeling of loneliness and boredom.” Jared smirks, taking a fry from his lunch tray and stuffing it into his mouth.

  “Hey! First if all, _I_ didn’t “ _drop_ ” Naomi,” Lance rebuttals, making air quotations with long slender fingers. “We broke up because it wasn’t working out, okay? End of story,”

 _“End of story.”_ Jared mocks. Lance throws him a glare as their table begins to fill up, more people from the basketball team joining them. Lance begins to pick at his mystery meat, not really interested in eating because of the breakfast from not too long ago.

  “Okay, so turns out this new kid _is_ Kolivan’s nephew.” Katie states, slipping into the seat next to Lance, Hunk sitting next to her. Lance turns his head to face her, raising an eyebrow.

  Before he could ask _how_ she knew that, a blonde cheerleader, Ezra, plops down next to Bianca, announcing (quite loudly), “We talking about Kogane’s weird kid?”

   Katie rolls her eyes on account of the stupid question. Plus, she never really liked Ezra. “Kolivan’s _nephew_.” She corrects. A basketball player in a blue school hoodie (Lance thinks his name is Taylor or Tyson or something like that maybe) perks up, bushy eyebrows rising in interest. Here it comes. There’s probably already some nasty rumor about this kid, given that he _is_ new and students at Northlove High were _always_ itching for a new reason to spread fake news all around town.

   “Old man’s nephew? I saw him earlier. He’s wearing all black, I think. It’s kinda creepy.” He admits. Ezra comments something along the lines of  “Kogane’s kid, what ya expect?”

  There’s a girl next to Taylor/Tyson, a cheerleader with strawberry blonde hair, choppily cut just below her ears. Lance doesn’t know her name, but he immediately decides he doesn’t like her when she nods in agreement. “Yeah, I saw him too. His name is…uh…I can’t remember, but he was _weird_. He looked like some kinda goth or something. He looks _mean_.”

  Lance swallows the retort that he feels already crawling up his throat. That just wasn’t right. Who were they to judge someone they didn’t even know? Do they have morals? Lance swears to God that he hates Northlove sometimes (most of the time).

  “How can you not remember? Do you know what’s he like?” Katie questions, intrigued. Lance mentally scoffs, of course she would jump at any opportunity to gain new (most likely false) information. _Nosy_.

  Taylor/Tyson clears his throat. “Well, uh…I don’t remember much either, but like…he’s quiet and _dark_. Just gives off these weird vibes, man. Like there’s something wrong with him or something…”

  Lance huffs. What is _up_ with these people? Did their mothers not teach them manners? Did they know it wasn’t nice to talk behind someone’s back? The kid’s new to the school for god sake! They didn’t even know him! The cheerleader chick can’t even remember his name! What right do they have?! None!

  “That’s not cool, man. Don’t talk shit behind someone’s back. You don’t even know the guy,” Lance says, squirming in his seat, clearly uncomfortable about the situation.

   Taylor/Tyson rolls his eyes, scoffing. “What? Like _you_ know him so well?” He halfway sneers. Lance sends him a hard glare.

  Lance refrains himself from saying anything else besides, “No, but I _do_ know what _manners_ are. Apparently you don’t.”

  Taylor/Tyson only rolls his eyes and ignores Lance, starting up a conversation with the nameless cheerleader beside him. Lance huffs in frustration as Katie and Hunk turn toward him, eyebrows raised. “You good?” Katie asks, smirking a bit.

  Lance shrugs, shaking his head. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” He half-truths. He hasn’t the slightest clue as to why he said _any_ of that, but it really doesn’t matter anymore. That was _so_ three minutes ago, Taylor/Tyson was sure to forget in two more.

  Hunk watches him skeptically and Lance has to flash him one of his show stopping grins to get him off his back. It seems to work, for Hunk only nods and goes back to his conversation with Katie.

  Katie is practically bouncing in her seat and Lance thinks he can hear the gears in her mind rotating at an alarmingly rapid pace. “Okay, so, quiet and dark. It makes him automatically mysterious…”

  Lance rolls his eyes.

⇠ ✧ ⇢

  The sluggish trudge to fifth period following lunch was filled with a warm comforting chatter thanks to Hunk and Katie’s shushed babbles and theories about Kolivan’s supposive nephew. Lance didn’t contribute much due to being absolutely _done_ with the school day already, but he did offer the occasional hum or nod of agreement.

  “Alright, Lance, what do you think?” Katie asks out of nowhere. Well, it’s not really “out of nowhere” because Lance _knew_ she asked a question before that, but he had been fully engulfed in the peaceful daydream which included him swimming in Aromadame Lake in the rain…

  “I think I’m ready to embrace the sweet release of death,” Lance responds without much thought. This statement causes Hunk to giggle a bit and Katie to scoff and roll her eyes, as if she expected Lance to say something along those lines.

   “Seriously, what do you think?” Katie asks again, raising her eyebrows. Her bangs fall into her eyes for a second before she quickly arranges them again by giving her head a subtle shake. She scrunches her nose to keep her glasses from falling off.

   “Is it a bad time to admit I wasn’t listening?” Lance smiles. Katie sends him a glare and punches his arm, not falling for the charming smile she was oh so used to. Lance pouts and bumps his hip with hers just as she was about to respond.

  “I’m small!” Katie claims loudly instead, accidentally stumbling into Hunk’s side. Hunk laughs, stabilizing her as she glares at Lance again. Lance only smiles back.

   “And yeah! It was a bad time to admit that! That was a serious question that deserved a seriously serious answer!” Katie adds, jabbing a finger into Lance’s side.

  “Seriously?! That hurts! And I _was_ being seriously serious!” Lance yelps, rubbing the spot where Katie’s finger dug into.

  “Woman up,” Katie repeats from this morning. Lance sticks out his tongue and tries to step on her heel when they all reach their shared fifth period. Katie pinches Lance’s side before racing inside the classroom, immediately making conversation with Ms. Amber, their new english teacher. Lance gasps dramatically, pressing a palm to where he pinched, trying to soothe the pain. He knew he wouldn’t be able to get back at her due to a teacher being in the room, but _god_ , Katie was going to regret that later.

  “Good morning, ma’am.” Lance greets, coming up behind Katie. Ms. Amber smiles kindly and Lance practically swoons. The little crush he had on her during freshman year never disappeared it seems. But you can’t blame him, Ms. Amber was absolutely _stunning_. She had warm red hair falling just below her shoulders in gentle waves, big mocha brown eyes, and had just about the sweetest smile on the planet. Most freshman boys had a crush on her and the fact that she wasn’t married didn’t help.

  “Good morning, Mr. Alvarez. How’s Coran doing?” She asks politely.

  “Just fine, ma’am. But I’m pretty sure he’s going to have a stroke when he finds out I was late to class. And on the first day, can you believe it? They’re already giving detentions.” Lance responds. Katie then blows a raspberry, bored with the conversation (or possibly annoyed with Lance for hijacking it) and walking off. Ms. Amber chuckles, shaking her head in disbelief.

  “Yes, I can believe it. Maybe you should be waking up earlier in order to get to school on time.” She offers. Lance sends her a grin.

  “I rather not,”

  Ms. Amber shakes her head again. “Then I guess you must suffer the consequences. Good luck in detention with Mr. Moore.” She teases lightheartedly. Mr. Moore was the devil incarnate maybe. Kinda like that dude Lance can’t remember the name of, from _The Breakfast Club._  Yeah, that seems like a reasonable comparison.

 “Thank you, I’m gonna need it.” Lance answers, pursing his lips. Ms. Amber ends up shooing him away with a wave when the late bell rings, telling him to get situated in a seat. Lance rushes off to an open desk near the middle the of the room, Katie to his left and Hunk to his right.

  Ms. Amber calls for everyone’s attention and just as about she was going to start on the classic “welcome back” rant, the door creaks open and the room suddenly silences. At the doorway stood a pale dark haired boy clad in all black, a backpack hanging off one shoulder. Lance blinks. It’s the new kid.

  Lance’s gaze flickers over to Katie and Hunk, who were staring at the kid like he was some sort of carnival attraction. Lance looks back at Ms. Amber, who was also staring with wide eyes, almost as if she were surprised.

  “Can I help—”

  “I’m new.” The boy interrupts in a low velvety voice. His eyes dance around the room before locking with Lance’s. Lance’s lips quirk up into a small smile, eyebrows shooting up in interest because, well…yeah…

  “Oh, yes, of course.” Ms. Amber rambles. She heads over to her desk and clicks onto her computer, searching the screen intently. “Last name?” She questions.

  Before the boy could respond, someone shouts from somewhere behind Lance. “Kogane isn’t it? As in Old Man Kogane? Kogane Manor?” Lance turns around, spotting Ezra sitting back in her seat, twisting a lock of her hair. Of course it was Ezra.

  “Shirogane, actually. Keith.” The boy responds without much emotion. Ms. Amber hums in response and begins to type into her computer again. Ezra now looks ticked off and Lance bites his lip expectantly. Oh no, this Shirogane kid was about to dig his own grave.

  “Well if that isn’t the most blatant lie I’ve ever heard. I know for a fact that you’re Old Man Kogane’s nephew. Aren’t you?” Ezra presses on.  

  “What’s it to you?” Keith quips. A childish chorus of ooo’s erupt from the students and Lance had to refrain from joining them. 

  Ezra throws Keith a deathly stare, but it seemed had no effect. Lance could tell Ezra was slowly starting to steam, and she’s was sure to blow up soon. “Take a seat wherever you’d like. I was actually about to start,” Ms. Amber informs.

  Lance sucks in a breath when Keith saunters over and plops himself in the empty desk right in front of Lance. Lance glances from Katie to Hunk, panicked. Hunk only stares quietly and Katie shrugs her shoulders uselessly.

  “Now we may begin,” Ms. Amber starts. She grabs a paperback book from her desk and shows off its clean cover. “During the summer you were assigned to read _Anthem_ by Ayn Rand in order to complete a project this week and the following. The copy you received has about one hundred pages and you all had _three_ months to read it. Everyone _must_ complete a project and turn it in. No excuses.”

  There are several groans in the classroom and Ms. Amber sends a look to those complaining about the awaited assignment. She ends up looking down at Keith, smiling. “Well, except you of course. I’m still going to give you three months and a half to read the book and finish the assignment though, so you don’t have to worry about turning it in soon.”

  To Lance’s surprise, Keith shakes his head in disagreement and Lance catches a whiff of pine needles and smoke. The scent was oddly… _familiar_.

  “No, that’s okay. I can do the assignment now. I’ve read _Anthem_ already, it’s one of my favorite novellas actually.” Keith tells her. Ms. Amber’s eyebrows shoot up in either surprise or disbelief. Lance thinks she looks the slightest bit impressed.

  “Kiss up,” Ezra scoffs from the back of the room. Lance freezes when Keith turns in his seat, looking back at Ezra. Lance feels his face heat up at the close proximity and he bites the inside of his cheek in order to refrain from doing or _saying_ anything stupid.

  “You would know wouldn’t you, Ezra?” Keith says lowly. It’s threatening in someway, it makes Lance’s gut twist. Is it hot in here?

  “Excuse me?”

  Lance furrows his eyebrows and turns back in his seat at the new voice that was definitely not Ezra. It was much too gravely.

  “You heard me…Seth.” Keith replies, turning back around. Seth bores her eyes into the back of Keith’s head and Lance gulps. Oh shit, Keith said that to _Seth_. _Aka_ , Ezra’s scary best friend, aka the girl who was about two times _anyone’s_ size, aka the girl who broke a basketball player’s nose because he had bad mouthed Ezra. _Seth_ , the girl you definitely _don’t_ wanna mess with.

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  Keith doesn’t turn back. “What do you think?”

  Lance is worried about Keith. If he doesn’t stop digging this hole, he’ll never it out of it. He’s already six feet down.

  “Enough! We’re going to start—”

  Ezra is the one who speaks next, cutting off Ms. Amber mid-sentence. “My mom says no one has seen Old Man Kogane in years. She says he never leaves that old creepy house of his. She says it’s because he’s a satan worshipper.”

  Lance rolls his eyes before glancing at Keith, trying to document his reaction. He doesn’t seem affected besides the fact that he did look a bit tense.  

  “Is it true? Are all Kogane’s creepy satan worshippers? My mom says I shouldn’t associate with people who shit on the bible. People like you.”

  Lance flinches in surprise when Keith suddenly whips around in his seat, a scowl on his face. “ _Please_. What do _you_ know about the bible?” Keith sneers.

  “What do _you_ know about it? Aren’t you a satanist?”

  Oh this is bad, this really bad. Something bad is going to happen, he can sense it.

  “Oh, you’re right, I just forgot my lamb’s blood at home so, I can’t do much,” Keith shrugs.

  Lance bites his lip and brings a hand up to his mouth, trying to stifle a laugh. Keith’s eyes flick toward him for a second and a heat pools in Lance’s stomach when he sees a faint trace of a smirk on Keith’s lips.

   “And I know plenty about the bible, I’ll have you know.”

  “Like what?”

  Here it comes… 

  “Like how premarital sex is a sin, but that doesn’t seem like it would stop you, would it?”

  The sentence causes an uproar between the students and Lance is able to burst into cackle amidst the chaos. He looks over to Katie who had a cheek splitting grin on her face before looking back at Keith, who’s eyebrows raised when they locked eyes. They’re blue, Lance thinks, but they were… _different_. Not quite just _blue_ , but more of an indigo.

  Violet…

  “You’re dead, Kogane!” Seth then shouts. She stands from her seat and races toward Keith’s desk, in which Keith was already scrambling out of. Lance’s classmates cheer them on as she chases him around the room, Keith swiftly dodging her swings and leaping over desks.

  Eventually, Seth manages to trip Keith, sending him toppling onto the floor. Seth gets a few ruthless punches in before Keith pushes her away and accidentally corners himself near the window depicting a dark cloudy sky. Ms. Amber is yelling at Seth to stop.

   Lance’s breath hitches when Seth ignores the ginger english teacher and cracks her knuckles, a sharp ringing sound suddenly beginning to pierce Lance’s ear drums. Lance covers his ears with his palms, his features morphing into ones laced with pain.

  “What is tha—”

  Lance is immediately cut off when screams and shouts replace the ringing in his ears. The lightbulbs had burst, sparks flying all around, starling the students. Then, the windows practically exploded, spilling pieces of glass everywhere around the room, the shards tingling as they fell onto the linoleum floor.

  Lance’s eyes widen when he sees blood dripping down multiple students’ faces, tiny shards of glass lodged into their profiles. One of these students is Katie, who was squeezing her eyes shut, eyelashes wet with tears. “Katie, are you okay?!”

  Katie nods, though still crying. “What the fuck just happened?!” She yells.

  Lance’s shakes his head rapidly, panicked. He looks around the room and spots Ezra with glass in her face and Seth in a fetal position on the floor. “Keith!” Lance yells instinctively. He turns around, looking for the dark head of hair.

  There are cries, shouts, and screams filling Lance’s ears as he catches sight of Keith rushing toward the door. “Keith!” Lance shouts again. Keith whips around, dark strands of hair curling against flushed cheeks, a dark bruise starting to form on his jaw and cheekbone. Both teens lock eyes, blue meeting _violet_ out of all colors. His eyes are tiredly droopy, dark rings adorning them. His eyes are sad and he looks scared, afraid, goddamn _terrified_.

  Keith adverts his eyes after a few seconds and easily slips out the door, the commotion inside serving as a perfect diversion. Lance bites his lip and looks around the classroom again, thoughts clouding his mind and a wave of emotions crashing into him.

   …Should he go after Keith?

**Author's Note:**

> Follow Keith or Stay Put


End file.
